


Points

by GhostHost



Series: A Pack[ed] Unit [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: But shitty paranormal romance werewolf pack dynamics at play, Hinted At Anyway, not a/b/o
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:04:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16105646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostHost/pseuds/GhostHost
Summary: Starscream has a world to run.He absolutely does not have time for things such as "bonds" or "units" or "giving in to Windblade's stupid, foolish demands."Even if they involve Wheeljack.





	Points

**Author's Note:**

> So this is apart of my Packed Unit’s series. Which isn’t really a series yet but that’s neither here nor there.
> 
> The short explanation is that I took shitty romance novel werewolf pack dynamics and modified it for TF’s. This is thus similar to A/B/O dynamics, in that there is a “Head” (Alpha of a unit) various classes of ‘Betas’ (who are just named based on their roles) and an ‘Omega’ (still called an Omega because I’m boring, but sometimes called a floater, for their ability to drift seamlessly into different units.) but I cut out all the gross shit that tends to permit A/B/O. There’s just a hierarchy of robots, with reliance on more than just physical strength to determine your position and some mechs being more aggressive/protective than others. 
> 
> Being in a Unit doesn't mean you are dating but when has Starscream ever done anything half way lol. 
> 
> Warnings: Uhhhh none? IDK throw me a line if you see something that needs a label.

 

Points

* * *

 

Starscream has more than a million reasons not to Head a unit. Privately, the rest of the world calls them excuses, but the speeches he makes about individuality and change seem to strike a chord, so the mutters somewhat stop.

But mechs aren’t supposed to be alone.

_Especially_ seekers.

The benefits of a unit were immeasurable, particularly to a species who needed to connect to each other, socialize to be stable, and the fact that their leader didn’t have one well…

They’d would’ve said it made them look bad but the war had kind of destroyed their species reputation to begin with with anyone who would have truly cared.

Still. Dysfunctional, antisocial, paranoid, and utterly mental–Starscream was a walking example of why straying from a unit too long was a bad, bad idea. That was before one considered society’s view on seekers, which, considering there weren’t exactly many of them left, was an odd mix of old superstitions, stereotypes and obvious lies.

If he hadn’t been blatantly chosen as their leader there would have been a lot more fights in Starscream’s future for the crown. Nevermind what he said about changing society and their old ways and a bunch of other things his audience, drowning in the fact that there were barely a few thousand of them even left, wanted to hear.

They still hated his guts.

And he still lived alone.

_Weak._

Starscream did not view it as weakness though. The exact opposite. Relying on a Unit, on others, was the weakness.  Without one he had no one to hold him back. No one others could target as a way to hurt him.

No one who would use him- _-force him-_ -and nope, no, his thoughts weren’t going there today!

They weren’t there often enough as it was.

xXx

“If we are going to met colonists then yes. You _have_  to join a unit.”

It was an argument they’d had going for nearly two earth weeks (only because Starscream had been dodging the topic for the better part of two months before Windblade had been brave enough to get blunt about it.)

Starscream sneered, red optics glinting. “And I assume the unit you so desperately wish for me to join is yours, Windblade?”

The physical revulsion on her face was enough to turn his sneer into a smirk.

Point to him.

_“No,”_  She said immediately, then winced, seemingly to realize how badly she’d misstepped. “No, I don’t think we’d be a good match.” She corrected, pawing for diplomacy. Starscream let her squirm.

“Of course we aren’t. I have higher standards.” He sniped.

A flash of annoyance cut through her face but she plowed on regardless. “You said it yourself. We–Cybertron–can’t afford to look weak.” Another thought struck her, darting across her face. It made Starscream almost sad that his best current political opponent was  _so damn easy_  to read. Frankly if she didn’t have some potential, he would’ve crushed her long ago.

Just went to show how bored he was, for even allowing an opponent to grow–just so he could have a challenge later.

Her change of tactic was, as predicted, weak. “I’m sure you’ve heard what your own people think of you right now.”

Starscream almost snorted.

How pathetic, to go for something so obvious.

“Try again.” He told her. If they really were going through with this colony business, then the real thing they needed to work on was Windblade’s diplomatic skills. She was too easy to rile, too easy to judge, and far, far too easy to manipulate.

She’d gotten better since she’d decided to tackle Starscream head on, but she wasn’t anywhere Starscream wanted a proper ally to be. He wanted competency, and got a newbie prone to dead-weighting on moral grounds.

(As with all things, Starscream blamed Megatron. Everything could be traced back to that fragger.

Everything.)

Not, that he thought the colonists were going to be _difficult._

Not the kind of difficult he was used to dealing with anyway.

“If your own people think you’re too weak, then an outsider will absolutely believe it.” Windblade said gamely, not willing to give up just yet.

With an optic-roll, Starscream decided to play along, if only to show her how awful that argument was.

 “Let’s say, for a moment, that I bothered to care what they think. I’m the current leader of Cybertron, so I can’t be seen joining someone else’s unit–my people will claim I am unbiased now that I follow someone elses orders.” He smiled when the truth of that hit Windblade, and he made sure she knew what he was smiling at. “Which leaves me to start a unit. Now, as leader, I have to make sure anyone I take on is not only trustworthy, but willing to work for the good of Cybertron. Everything they do will reflect on me, which means they need to have the public’s approval–and be willing to be under their gaze. _Constantly.”_

Point, point, annnd point. He expected Windblade to wince, as if his words were actual blows.

“Do you honestly know anyone willing to do that?” He didn’t.

What he was not expecting was an abruptly smug smile. “Yes.” She said, tone also smug, to Starscream’s horror. “I have just the mech in mind. They’ve even already agreed to it.”

“Do you?” Starscream drawled. Now this he wanted to hear.

Windblade leaned forward, that awful smile growing somehow larger on her face. “Wheeljack,” She said. “–has happily agreed to be in your unit. _No matter the position.”_

Starscream didn’t freeze–he had far, far too much experience to freeze.

“Did he now?” He said carefully.

“You can ask him yourself.” Windblade challenged.

Red optics narrowed. “I will. In the meantime, unless you have anything else to distract me with. I have a planet to run.” He sat back down at his desk, making a sweeping gesture to indicate Windblade should leave.

Thankfully, she did.

It wasn’t until a minute later, when Starscream was angrily thinking things over that he realized she had–finally–played him. Now he’d have to talk to Wheeljack.

With a mental frown, Starscream, begrudgingly, gave a point to her.


End file.
